


hanami

by blue-plums (arabesque05)



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:53:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16943082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabesque05/pseuds/blue-plums
Summary: sakura, when she has the opportunity, likes to sleep in late.sasuke is not like this. sakura sometimes suspects that sasuke is physically incapable of sleeping in.





	hanami

Sakura, when she has the opportunity, likes to sleep in late. There is never the opportunity, of course, since Sakura almost lives at the hospital: but she likes waking up to a bedroom already streaming full of sunlight, to the smell of Sasuke making lunch in the kitchen, to streets already bustling with people and coffee on its third reheating.

Sasuke is not like this. Sakura sometimes suspects that Sasuke is physically incapable of sleeping in. Every day, Sasuke rises in the quiet hour before dawn—when the sky is no longer so dark, but the moon has set; when even the shadows fade into each other. Sasuke is one of those shadows: he goes out for a run, and puts on the coffee, and waters his garden, and feeds the cat; greets the milkman, and sweeps the front steps of the house, and patches up a wall, and packs Sakura’s lunch; many tiny, impossible things, all before breakfast.

* * *

Sasuke is weirdly picky about how  _hanami bento_  are arranged. Sakura is the sort to make five giant rice balls and call it a day, but Sasuke. Sasuke has  _standards_. Sasuke has an  _aesthetic_. _  
_

“You didn’t make  _inarizushi_ ,” he says.

“I didn’t punch you in the face,” she replies.

They have a tense stare-off: sometimes, Sasuke does dare her to punch him in the face, Sakura hesitates because it is such a well-formed face and then punches him in the stomach instead, and they engage in some light brawling. It’s healthy for a marriage, thinks Sakura, to be able to take some punches. Since her pregnancy, though, Sasuke has been trying to be careful around her; and then remembering Sakura’s violent dislike of being treated carefully; and then overcompensating somewhat in the other direction. 

Meditatively, Sakura asks, “Do I punch you too much?”

“You don’t punch me,” says Sasuke.

“I punched you last week,” protests Sakura.

“It didn’t land,” says Sasuke.

“Y _ou went through a wall.”_

“I tripped,” says Sasuke, but he’s a bit forceful as he takes the  _aburage_  out of their packaging. Sakura totally punched him through a wall.

* * *

When Sasuke found out about the pregnancy, he said, “Ah” and “When?” and was quiet for a very long time. Sakura might have worried—but Sasuke stopped making coffee in the mornings and poured all the shochu down the sink and started stockpiling vegetables in their fridge, so Sakura was mostly angry.

“ _Occasionally some caffeine!_ “ she shouted at him, somewhat incoherently. Sakura was not the most eloquent when angry. ” _Occasionally! It’s fine! Studies show!_ ” _  
_

Sasuke bared his teeth at her. “Don’t try to sneak any coffee, Sakura,” he warned. “I have eyes  _everywhere_.”

“You’re the  _worst_ at threatening, you are like some  _terrible B-movie._  And also! Not true! You are like, practically half-blind—you have like,  _one_  eye—”

"I’ll know,” said Sasuke, scowling. “Don’t try it.” _  
_

* * *

Sakura tried to sneak some coffee while on shift at the ER and was pretty much dogpiled by six ANBU, one of whom ripped out an IV to leap at her and then bled all over her lab coat from a gut wound.

“Wow,” Sakura said, patching up the gut wound later. “What incredible dirt does he have on you guys?”

“Commander does not  _threaten_  us—” said the ANBU stiffly. _  
_

"It’s all right,” whispered Sakura. “I’ll get you your revenge,” and later that night, she went home and put their commander through a wall.

* * *

Sakura wonders if she and Sasuke don’t talk about things enough. Ino and Sai talk about  _everything_ , menstrual cycles and why penises tend to flop in just one direction and whose toenails need clipping. It’s super gross and also, a little enviable.

“Ugh, no, why,” says Ino. They’re at pub night: Ino hands Sakura a glass of orange juice. Sakura takes it with some measure of resignation. “Why would you want to talk about dick-flopping? Like, we don’t talk about these things because we  _want_  to talk about them. He just…has no filter.”

"I don’t know,” mumbled Sakura. “I’d want to talk about dick flopping if it was Sasuke’s—”

“Shut up, Forehead—!” Ino threw bits of pub mix at Sakura. “ _I_  don’t want to!”

Sakura picked up the pub mix that had bounced back on the table. She ate it sadly. 

Ino seemed to relent somewhat. “You know what kind of person Uchiha Sasuke is?”

Sakura thought about this for a moment. “A housewife,” she decided. “Trapped in the wrong body.”

"I—….” Ino squinted. “I don’t know about that. But he’s a reconnaissance  _freak_. He is like, the inbred product of generations of shinobi breeding. That’s all he knows how to do. And  _you_ —you’ve been stalking him for like, two decades now. You guys don’t talk about stuff because you probably already know and have it documented in a notebook somewhere.”

"That’s really creepy, Ino-chan,” said Sakura.

“So are you two,” said Ino, frankly. “Really creepy. It’s like two barely-domesticated man-eating tigers living together. Your kid’s going take over the world.”

* * *

They go flower viewing in the evening. Sakura likes the moonlight: nothing better than getting drunk among flowers in the moonlight. People write poems about that sort of stuff.

“You’re not getting drunk,” says Sasuke flatly. “You’re not getting alcohol.”

“God, what a wet-blanket,” complains Sakura—but doesn’t disagree. Instead, she says, “You’ll drink my part too?”

“I didn’t bring any alcohol,” says Sasuke.

“My husband,” says Sakura to the night air, “thinks that I am so resourceless.” She turns and dimples at him, and then pulls out a bottle of shochu from the bag Sasuke is carrying. “But, you know—we graduated the academy together, and I scored better than you. We took the chunin exams together, that one time. And I passed before you did. And you told me that, in terms of _genjutsu_ , of all the members in our—”

“Ugh,” says Sasuke, and hip-checks Sakura off the road.

“Hahaha!” laughs Sakura, and takes the _bento_ bag from Sasuke, and then shoves him into a bush.

They are both kind of violent people, she supposes. Peace suits them well, but sometimes they spoil for a fight. Probably, they know that about each other.

Whistling, Sakura hefts the bag over her own shoulders and strolls down the road. “My husband is strong,” she tells the night air, “but I’m stronger.” Behind her, Sasuke rights himself, and dusts off the branch bits and leaves; very quiet and very low, she hears him laughing.

* * *

(“Why were you so insistent about  _inarizushi_?” Sakura pokes Sasuke in the shoulder. The spoils of their  _bento_  lay before them but the  _inarizushi_  remains untouched. Neither Sasuke nor Sakura really like deep fried tofu.

“Hmm,” says Sasuke. He blinks slowly at her.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you,” asks Sakura. “Totally sloshed.”

“No,” says Sasuke. His words aren’t slurred, but he speaks carefully, slowly. Drunk Sasuke is the most deliberate thing Sakura has ever seen.

“ _Inarizushi_ ,” repeats Sakura.

“Oh,” says Sasuke. He waves his left vaguely at a hill. “You know. Foxes like ‘em.”

“Really.”

Sasuke frowns thoughtfully at the  _inarizushi_. “I heard, anyway. In legends.” He looks back up, focuses on the cherry trees. “It’s pretty,” he says, and smiles a little bit. “Sakura.”

“Clever,” says Sakura, but she smiles too. “You’re clever. Rhat was so subtle.”

“I am,” agrees Sasuke. He looks at her several moments. “Thank you,” he says.

Sakura doesn’t think he’s thanking her for calling him subtle: but the next moment, a flash of gold catches her eye. Over the hill, Naruto appears. He catches sight of them, and waves enthusiastically. Sakura waves back.

_Ah_ , she thinks.  _Foxes like ‘em._

She puts a hand on her stomach and rests her head against Sasuke’s shoulder. “We’re doing okay,” she decides.

“I think so,” says Sasuke, a smile curving his words.)


End file.
